396: Chapter 390 Ruthless Methods Lead to Despair

Chen Zhiwen didn't continue speaking, only letting out a very faint, cold laugh.

But this laugh completely shattered the last sliver of hope in Huang Wanfu's heart.

"You... you deliberately concealed the existence of the 'Sea-Suppressing Mantra'..." Huang Wanfu's body trembled violently; he finally understood what a precise and malicious trap he had fallen into.

From the moment he took that Jade Slip, his fate was sealed. The faster he Cultivated, the more miserably he would die.

"I, Huang Wanfu... have worked like an ox or horse for your Heavenly Sword Sect, willingly being a dog in your hands, Chen Zhiwen... and you actually...

...didn't even leave me a single path to survival?!"

Two streams of murky bloody tears flowed from the corners of Huang Wanfu's eyes, instantly freezing into red ice beads on his face, looking incredibly wretched.

"To be a dog, one must have the awareness of a dog." Chen Zhiwen slowly straightened his body, placing his hands behind his back once more. The mockery on his face had completely vanished, replaced by an intimidating majesty and coldness that made one shudder.

"Did you truly think I didn't know what you were thinking? You were stuck at the Foundation Establishment Great Perfection for thirty years, and your heart has long since accumulated countless grievances and ambitions. After obtaining the Cultivation Technique, not only did you fail to report your progress to me, but you also secretly hid in the valley to forcibly break through the bottleneck.

Did you think that by forming a Golden Core, you could escape my control? That you could turn around and blackmail me for a share of the spoils here in the Southern Wasteland?"

Chen Zhiwen took a step forward, looking down at Huang Wanfu from a height. His voice was like a great bronze bell, echoing over the city walls:

"Huang Wanfu, you overrate yourself. In this Southern Wasteland, those who follow me—even if they are just dogs—I will allow them a few bones to eat;

But if anyone dares to show their fangs to their master, I will ensure they don't even have the right to become a ghost!"

Huang Wanfu opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to argue, but he could no longer make any sound.

That black Xuanming Frigid Qi had completely eroded his internal organs and was spreading up his esophagus to his mouth.

He could only make hair-raising "he-he" sounds, helplessly watching as his hands and chest bit by bit turned into hard, black ice.

His thirty years of bitter Cultivation, his grand blueprint to restore the Huang Family's prestige, and the "Golden Core" he had just formed and hadn't even had time to show off to the world—all of it turned into a laughable illusion at this moment.

Chen Zhengchu, standing not far behind Chen Zhiwen, took all of this in.

He gritted his teeth hard, desperately controlling himself from shaking. Looking at Huang Wanfu's wretched death, the fear of Chen Zhiwen deep within him flooded out like a dam breaking.

This Grand Elder not only had heavenly cultivation but his depth of scheming and ruthlessness made one feel a bone-deep despair.

Without even moving a finger, he had used a single Cultivation Technique to effortlessly drive a Foundation Establishment Great Perfection expert to death. Such mental tactics were even more terrifying than those of the Demonic Path outside.

"Crack... crack..."

Accompanied by a series of tooth-aching freezing sounds, Huang Wanfu's body finally stopped twitching altogether.

He remained in that posture—kneeling with his head tilted back, face full of despair and resentment—turning into a lifelike black ice sculpture radiating a piercing chill.

The wind and rain continued. The ice sculpture stood silently on the city wall, as if wordlessly recounting the cruelty and ruthlessness of the world of Cultivators.

Chen Zhiwen didn't even bother to look at the ice sculpture again. He turned his head slightly and gave a faint instruction to Chen Zhengchu behind him: "Zhengchu."

"Sub... Subordinate is here!" Chen Zhengchu jolted, hurriedly stepped forward, and lowered his head deeply, not even daring to breathe loudly.

"Drag this trash's corpse away."

"Shatter it and throw it into the eye furnace of the Tianluo Vajra Array. Although he formed a waste pill, a poison pill, it still gathered the lifelong true essence of a Foundation Establishment Great Perfection Cultivator.

Utilizing waste can at least supplement a bit of the spiritual energy consumption of the city's protective Formation."

To drive the Clan Chief of a living subsidiary Family to death and then shatter the corpse to use as fuel for a Formation!

Chen Zhengchu felt his stomach churning, but he didn't dare hesitate for a moment and hurriedly responded loudly.

"Understood! Your subordinate will see to it immediately!" With that, he hastily summoned several Law Enforcement Team Disciples. Like dragging a dead dog, they used thick iron chains to bind the ice sculpture that Huang Wanfu had become.

They laboriously dragged it toward the Formation core beneath the city walls. The ear-piercing sound of the chains scraping against the bluestone slabs faded into the heavy rain.

At the same time, dozens of yards below the towering city walls, within the Formation Buffer Zone, it was already a scene of hellish misery.

The air here seemed to have become thick with extreme panic and a dense smell of blood.

Thunder rolled frantically within the dark clouds, and with every flash, the muddy battlefield was illuminated as bright as day.

The torrential rain was like countless cold steel needles, mercilessly stabbing into the thin, ragged clothes of thousands of Loose Cultivators.

This area happened to be at the edge of the Tianluo Vajra Array's defensive light screen. The Formation's defense Rank had been deliberately weakened here, retaining only the most basic slowing and warning functions.

This meant that the attacks from the Demonic Path Vanguard outside could easily penetrate this thin light screen and fall upon these Loose Cultivators who were being used as meat shields.

"Rumble—!"

A massive clap of thunder exploded, and the wild wind kicked up waves of mud several yards high, slamming into the crowd.

Wang Er's thin frame trembled violently in the mud. He was pressed almost like a loach against the foul-smelling sludge.

His fingers dug deep into the soil. Because of the excessive force, his fingernails had cracked one after another, and dark red blood mixed with black mud, stickily coating the gaps between his fingers, yet he seemed unable to feel the pain.

His chest heaved violently, each breath feeling like he was swallowing sharp ice shards. The cold sea breeze poured in through his ragged collar, freezing him so much that he shook uncontrollably.

His bloodshot eyes had shrunk to the size of pinpoints from extreme fear, staring fixedly at the edge of the Formation about a dozen yards ahead, which was glowing with a faint golden light.

"Uncle Li... Uncle Li..." Wang Er's voice was shaking terribly, carrying a sob as he desperately squeezed toward the hunched figure beside him. "I'm scared... I'm really scared... They're coming... We're all going to die here, aren't we?"

The old Loose Cultivator he called Uncle Li was also covered in mud. He tightly gripped a Low Grade Magical Artifact Flying Sword that was broken in half, his teeth chattering.

Hearing Wang Er's pathetic crying, a flash of irritation and helplessness crossed Uncle Li's eyes. He suddenly reached out a rough hand and pressed Wang Er's head down hard, shoving his face into the mud.

"Shut up! Do you want to lure those monsters over?!" Uncle Li lowered his voice, growling in Wang Er's ear like an old wolf driven into a corner.

"Don't look up! Restrain your aura! When those beasts charge in later, they'll definitely bite those idiots in the front who are standing and running around first! In the chaos, play dead! No matter what you hear, don't move!"

Just as Uncle Li finished speaking, the tremors of the earth suddenly became extremely violent.

It was as if thousands of giant beasts were outside, frantically trampling the surface of the sea.

"Roar—!"

One after another, hair-raising, shrill beast roars pierced through the wind and rain, clearly reaching the ears of every Loose Cultivator.

Those roars were laced with a dense smell of blood and extreme madness, as if hungry ghosts from the depths of Hell were howling.

In the next moment, the Formation light screen glowing with faint golden light distorted violently.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Accompanied by a series of dull thuds, hundreds of monsters—each the size of a calf, covered in dark red scales...

...with eyes like burning blood—shattered the weak shield at the edge of the Formation and poured into the buffer zone like a black tide!

Blood-Slaying Evil Hound!

These five hundred monsters, fed by Demonic Cultivators with the flesh and resentment of countless Mortals, went into a bloodthirsty frenzy the moment they escaped the powerful pressure of the Formation's exterior.

Their dark red scales shimmered with a nauseating luster under the lightning, and highly corrosive saliva constantly dripped from the corners of their mouths. When the saliva fell into the mud...

...it immediately made a "hissing" sound, sending up plumes of green toxic smoke.

"Mother! Monsters! The monsters are inside!"

"Help! Help me!"

The Loose Cultivator group, which had barely managed to maintain its Formation, completely collapsed the moment they saw these terrifying monsters.

Hundreds of Loose Cultivators in the front row let out screams of despair. They instinctively turned around, wanting to flee toward the towering inner city walls behind them.

But this was undoubtedly the most foolish move.

"Psh!"

A Qi Refining level seven Loose Cultivator running at the very front hadn't even taken two steps before he was slammed down from behind by a Blood-Slaying Evil Hound that was as fast as lightning. The massive impact directly snapped his spine...

...making a tooth-aching sound of bone cracking. The Loose Cultivator's shrill scream had only just begun when the Blood Hound's bloody maw, filled with interlocking fangs, savagely bit into his neck.

With a dull "crunch," the Cultivator's head was torn off, and warm blood erupted from the headless neck like a fountain, instantly dyeing the surrounding rainwater scarlet.

The Blood Hound greedily chewed the flesh in its mouth, its crimson eyes flashing with cruel light, before locking its gaze onto its next prey.

Such tragedies were playing out simultaneously in every corner of the buffer zone.

The Loose Cultivators desperately summoned their low-tier Magical Artifacts with dim spiritual light or cast spells like the Fireball Technique and Wind Blade Technique.